


something in me understands

by stardating



Series: in the company of flowers [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Friendship, Hanahaki Disease, Happy Ending, M/M, Oblivious Steve Rogers, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Trope Subversion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-23
Updated: 2020-05-23
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:35:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24328876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stardating/pseuds/stardating
Summary: Steve appreciated flowers. He really did. But he would appreciate them more if he didn’t have so many allergies. Sneezing up piles of flower petals was not his idea of a good time.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Series: in the company of flowers [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1756540
Comments: 10
Kudos: 83





	something in me understands

**Author's Note:**

> This idea came to me while I was in the shower—don’t all the best ideas happen there? Thank you to everyone on the MCU Stony Discord server for the inspiration and suggestions! Special thanks to Stella for helping me pick out the flowers and make sure I didn’t forget anyone! I hope I did everyone justice; this was an absolutely huge cast.
> 
> Fun fact: many flowers, such as sunflowers, violets, lilacs, marigolds, and roses are edible! Keep in mind that this is generally only in small amounts and flowers not grown wildly or where pesticides are commonly used. In this verse no one gets allergic or deadly reactions due to any flowers, because I like the romantic fluff aspect of this trope, but research before you eat!
> 
> _(i do not know what it is about you that closes  
>  and opens; only something in me understands  
> the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses)  
> nobody, not even the rain, has such small hands_
> 
> _e.e. cummings_

Steve hated spring.

Whenever he mentioned that he hated the season, everyone always gasped, because weren’t artists supposed to love spring? The flowers and dew sparkling in the sunlight? The trees beginning to bud with fresh leaves after the long, harsh winter? All the colors?

Oh, sure. He totally understood the aesthetic of spring.

Some of the concepts explored on the internet through photo manipulation were amazing. Just a simple shift in hue could convey all sorts of different messages and meanings, just like a brushstroke or different shade of green might on a painting. He really liked that so many people were able to express themselves artistically through this medium too, more than ever before. It did not take art supplies and wasted canvasses and ruined paintbrushes. The experimentation, the exploration, the lessons learned about lighting, color, placement … that was all there.

However, the real season of spring? The thing people had to deal with in real life?

There was unpredictable weather. Tomato plants not protected by frost cloths were killed overnight even though it was past the last average frost date. One minute, it was bright and sunny. Then, suddenly, everything was soaking wet because the weatherman assured the population that there would be no freak thunderstorms. They should have known better.

And the _allergies_.

Steve was allergic to a lot.

The list might as well be ‘everything but …’ if there was ever an exception.

So when he started coughing and sneezing more than usual, he didn’t think much about it. It was spring and everything was blooming. It was an unavoidable risk with the changing of the seasons. He wondered, briefly, if it might be that annoying Hanahaki Disease some people got, but dismissed it. Even though there were many, many romance novels about how people would find that special someone thanks to the non-consensual petals being sneezed up like they were at a wedding (another trope romance novels loved), it was also common knowledge that Hanahaki Disease could and often did express all kinds of love.

Someone coughing up rose petals on Valentine’s Day could just as easily sneeze daisy petals on their birthday or some other special occasion. He already knew that he was loved by his friends. There was no mystery there, no need to start asking what everyone’s favorite flower was.

And besides, who would have romantic feelings for him?

* * *

“Violets?” Bucky asked, frowning.

Steve shrugged and spat a few more of the tiny flowers out into their bathroom sink. “I think they’re Natasha’s favorite. Maybe Bruce? I don’t keep track of this stuff.”

“Well, nice that you’re getting some confirmation of love from them.”

Steve gave him a look. “Bruce is a good friend. I already know that. He probably got the letters I’ve been sending him. How the post office finds him, I have no idea.”

“By some unholy sacrifice or Pepper being that amazing, I am sure. But what about Natasha?” Bucky asked, grinning.

“She is terrifying. She needs no other compliment.”

He tore off some toilet paper and wiped his mouth as Bucky laughed.

“Say, Buck, what was your favorite flower again?”

Bucky rolled his eyes and shoved his shoulder lightly. “You already know I love ya dumb mug.”

“Oh, sure you do,” he replied, shoving him back. “I’ll let you know when I see some peonies.”

* * *

With their different class schedules, Bucky’s part time job at the mechanic shop, and Steve’s work study at the campus library, it could be a hit or miss knowing if Bucky would be at the apartment or not. Sure, they tried to keep their schedules straight, but a piece of paper on the fridge only worked if they remembered to keep it current.

Today, it seemed that Bucky was either off or had some time in between classes and work. When he came home, Steve saw Bucky was lying on the couch, scrolling on his phone, the lazy brat.

“Hey, welcome home,” Bucky called, not looking up from some website or another.

“Thanks,” Steve replied, taking the opportunity to throw a handful of Dutch iris petals into his face.

“Oh my—what the hell? Are these covered in—?” Bucky yelled, brushing the blue and yellow petals off him.

“I’ll let you think on that,” Steve grinned.

“You little shit!”

* * *

Steve hummed to himself as he returned books to their proper shelves. Today had been a good one. So far, no more petals had come out of his mouth and his allergy medicine had kicked in a few hours ago. No book, no matter how old and dusty it was, would cause him to sneeze or his nose to run. With flu season a few weeks away, everyone always gave him dirty looks when he pulled out a tissue. He rolled his eyes every time and always made a show of pulling out some hand sanitizer. As if he would forget to do something basic like wash his hands. Honestly.

Then … he felt it.

The tell-tale tickle deep in his throat.

The taste of something floral on his tongue.

He took out a handkerchief and sneezed a few times, hoping the petals would come up quickly and end soon. In the end, there was a good pile of petals all over the floor.

“Are you alright?” a random patron asked, concerned.

“Oh, I’m fine, it’s just—”

She looked delighted. “Hydrangea petals! That’s my girlfriend’s favorite flower, but she likes them pink.”

Steve smiled as he pulled out another blue petal from his mouth. “My friend Sam likes them.”

“Aww, that’s sweet,” she cooed.

They chatted a bit more over the shared experience of coughing up petals for loved ones, in all the forms that love came in, before parting to their respective tasks again.

He texted Sam, who laughed and offered to bring some cold medicine next time they met up for movie night. Steve’s reply was not appropriate for work.

* * *

He got woken up not by petals, but by text messages.

Squinting and cursing his past self for not turning down the brightness on his phone, Steve flopped back onto his pillows and blankets when he saw it was Tony.

Tony never had one sleep schedule or any other kind of consistency. It led to a lot of interesting moments and some downright crazy ones, but being texted around three in the morning about a revolutionary new idea was kind of tame.

So, Steve read the texts, tried to make heads or tails of it, gave Tony some suggestions, and laughed when he got a bunch of excited, happy emoji in reply.

* * *

Steve had to look up the next one—it turned out to be a Siberian fawn lily.

“You missed one,” Natasha said, giving him a smirk as she plucked the pink petal off of his shoulder.

He rolled his eyes and swatted her hand away.

“I am sure you are just pleased.”

She gave him a sharp smile. “I’ve been coughing up violets and pansies all week.”

Her too? Steve wondered.

* * *

It all started with a new class all college students were required to take, aptly called ‘College 101’. While Steve could see some students needing this class, because why would their already over-burdened education system include something like work-life balance or proper studying techniques into the curriculum, he counted himself among those who considered the class a waste of time. It didn’t even count towards their degree plans!

This resulted in a healthy mixture of different students: those almost done with their bachelor’s, beginning freshmen, med students, art degrees, and more. Despite these differences though, most of them agreed the class was not really giving them anything worthwhile.

“This is a load of—” a man wearing sunglasses indoor began, before a sharp look from their professor cut him off. He remained silent until she continued to lecture them. “—BS.”

“Does she think we’re idiots?” a tall black man asked from behind Steve. “I don’t know about you, but I was managing school and a job since before I was an adult.”

“I know,” Steve whispered conspiringly back. “And Maslow’s Hierarchy has tons of criticisms, but it’s like she’s trying to convert us.”

“As if we don’t make bad decisions or need to choose something like mental health over physical comfort,” a redhead sitting next to the sunglasses man added.

“Hey, think we can get away with blowing this course?” Bucky asked to his right.

“No,” an older man with a mop of brown curls answered. “I tried to get out of it, given that I already have a doctorate, but there’s no exceptions. Too many students have been flunking out and complaining of general anxiety.”

“Hey! I got a doctorate too!” the sunglasses man cheered.

Their professor stopped her lecture mid-sentence. “Is there anything you’d like to add to the discussion?”

“Yeah,” Tony asked. “What do you think about Maslow only studying the healthiest of college students at the time and saying that studying those who aren’t neurotypical can, and I quote, ‘yield only a cripple psychology and a cripple philosophy’?”

The class was chaos for the rest of the semester.

The professor lodged complaints, but given that no one was breaking any rules and were doing their assignments, the counselors could hardly find grounds for punishment. Class meetings led to study sessions which led to going to the movies, which led to Steve meeting some of the best friends in his entire life (besides Bucky).

* * *

“Hey, Steve!” Scott called, waving from across the street.

“Hey!” Steve shouted back, waiting for him to come over. “How’s it going?”

“Kind of rotten,” Scott replied. “I’ve been trying to work on some engineering projects, but I keep sneezing my head off and having to clean up mountains of chrysanthemum petals!”

Steve couldn’t help but laugh. “Isn’t that Hope’s favorite flower?”

“Well, yeah, but it’s still annoying,” he muttered with a blush.

Steve grinned and nudged him with his elbow, giving him a sly grin he had seen on everyone else’s face all week. The one that included the waggling of eyebrows and unspoken suspicions of romance and goo-goo eyes and lovey-dovey stuff. Not that he understood why they were doing it, but if they couldn’t take what they were giving, oh well.

“Man, shut up!”

“At least Cassie doesn’t like peanut flowers. That would be horrible, wouldn’t it?”

Scott grumbled. “No, she likes roses.”

As Steve continued to laugh his head off, Scott’s mutterings turned from annoyed to promises of never having a reliable internet connection ever again.

* * *

“There you are!” Tony exclaimed from across the library.

“Shh!” Steve hushed automatically.

Other library patrons gave them both glares. The way one student gripped their pencil, it looked like they were two seconds from murder. Maybe they were. The first round of finals were coming up and tension was already starting to build.

Tony rolled his eyes and dramatically whispered when he got up to Steve’s counter.

“I have been looking for you all day.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Pepper told me you were jet-lagged. How much coffee did you have?”

“None. That’s the problem.”

Steve laughed and pushed down the swell of fondness rising in his chest. Of all his friends, Tony had to be the most ridiculous, and that was saying something. He adored him though, even if he could be intense sometimes. It took a while, but like everyone else in their group, he learned how to enjoy the ride he was dragged along. The day where they lost track of time in the MET discussing art and politics throughout the different time periods, even dipping into Ancient Egypt for a bit there, was still one of his best memories.

“So, why are you looking for me?” Steve asked. “Did I forget something at your place? I’ve been missing a watercolor palette and it’s not in the art room.”

Tony presented said watercolor palette with an exaggerated flourish. “Ta-da.”

“Thanks. How was the trip?”

Pausing only when someone came up to the counter in need of help for one thing or another, Tony filled him in on the details of his trip to California where he worked on some projects at the R&D Department of Stark Industries. Trips where he worked with one department or another were only over weekends and holidays, given the school’s strict attendance policy, but it was a better idea than throwing Tony into a CEO position when his father stepped down. At least he would be prepared and have some idea of how the company worked when that happened, as if Tony hadn’t already researched all he could about their practices and business methods.

But while it wasn’t a secret among them that Tony didn’t want to be CEO or CFO or whatever acronym it was, letting his father know was much harder.

“I really like that department, though,” Tony said. “Being able to create and toss ideas around and solve problems … sure, I have to manage projects the company decides to do and not everything will be approved because ‘money’, but I like it better than paperwork and lawyers.”

“You’ll figure out how to tell your pops,” Steve encouraged. “It’s not like you signed a contract when you were born or something. Maybe you could compromise? Find someone who would be a better CEO and you become the head of the R&D department when that guy steps down. Buy some more stock or whatever, if it will put your pops at ease.”

Tony laughed, but it was an appreciative one. Steve knew the answer wouldn’t be something like that, but one never knew where a solution might come from.

“Thanks for letting me ramble.”

“Hey, any time.”

* * *

Any fondness he felt for Tony disappeared when he coughed up ranunculus petals for the rest of the day. Gathering them into an envelope, he passed it off to Rhodey when they met up for a history class they shared.

“Man, he’s got it bad for you,” Rhodey said.

“Him and everyone else,” Steve replied. “I’m a walking flower shop.”

Rhodey rolled his eyes and laughed, muttering something about ‘idiots’, but promised he knew what to do with the petals.

Tony sent him annoyed texts well into the early morning.

* * *

Rhodey sent a few photos of Tony absolutely disgusted as an apology when Steve coughed up a few marigold petals. The payback was worth it, though.

* * *

“Steve!”

Steve looked up from the book he was reading. He was manning the library desk today, ensuring that people found their books and didn’t have too many hiccups with the new self-checkout stations. Overall, it had been a quiet day, until now. Peter Parker, who was a freshman and something like Tony’s mentee, came running up to the desk in an absolute panic.

“Steve, please tell me we have a copy of—”

Holding up a finger, Steve went below the desk to retrieve a book placed on hold.

Peter looked like he was going to explode until the book was in his hands.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” Peter exclaimed.

Steve didn’t bother asking him to lower his voice. No one else was around, really.

“It’s alright,” he said. “But next time, you’re going to double check your textbook list before classes start, and long before the first test, right?”

Peter’s face flushed horribly.

“Yeah. But really. Thank you. The school library didn’t have a copy, the bookstore is out of them, and it’s costing over a hundred dollars!”

Steve winced. “I know the feeling.”

“Textbook price gouging should be made illegal.”

“Tell Tony. He’ll find the right lobbyist.”

Then, in a swift movement, Peter put the book on the counter and leaned over, hugging Steve tightly. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

Steve laughed and returned the hug, patting him on the back. “Hey, if I can’t use my powers for good, why am I a librarian? Now go study, I’ll make sure to renew it for you.”

“Thank you!”

Later that week, Steve coughed up a few spider flowers and was soon told that Peter had passed his exam with flying colors. As if there was any doubt, textbook or not.

* * *

“Hey,” Steve said, recognizing Tony’s ringtone.

“Thanks for helping Peter out,” Tony said, skipping usual phone greetings.

“It wasn’t a problem, really. I managed to find it under the shelf. Someone just shoved it there, instead of putting it away properly, is all.”

In the background, Steve heard the familiar sparking of a welder.

“Tony, are you multitasking again?”

“What? No.”

“Tony.”

Tony sighed and there was some shuffling, but apparently, he wasn’t focusing on melting two pieces of metal or something together.

“Thank you,” Steve said. “I don’t want you to get burned again.”

“Because I complain for three weeks?”

“That too.”

“But seriously, thanks for helping him out. The kid was worrying himself up a wall and wouldn’t tell me about the problem. I mean, it was just a textbook, I could have easily found it—”

“And how often does he come to you for things you can’t just fix in five minutes?” Steve asked, getting to the heart of the problem. They had this conversation before, where Tony couldn’t understand why it was so hard for Peter to ask for help sometimes. “Things he doesn’t go to anyone else for? He probably thought, who do you ask book questions? A librarian, duh.”

Tony let out a long, deep sigh.

Even though Peter was a certified genius, he was still sixteen years old and in college with a huge guilt complex. There were times they all wanted to shake him and assure him he could come to them for _anything_ , that he didn’t have to suffer alone (or at all), but he rarely did. He was going to change the world one of these days and they couldn’t wait to see the kind of person he would become, but for now, it was a struggle to not want to put him in a bubble and destroy all of the things that had made him think he wasn’t worth time or consideration or respect.

“More than when we first met him,” Tony admitted. “So, thank you again.”

“You’re welcome, Tony. I’m glad I could help. Try not to worry about him too much, okay?”

Tony snorted. “That’s like asking you not to draw.”

“Don’t remind me.”

* * *

“Stephen!”

Across the café, Thor waved his arm.

Steve finished swallowing a bite of his sandwich as Thor came over, full of energy as always.

“Hey, Thor, how are you—”

Something snagged in his throat and he coughed.

“Steve, are you well?”

“Yeah, I just—”

A few more coughs racked his chest, causing some pain, until the flowers finally gave themselves up and landed on his plate: deep red gladiolas flowers with a white edge around the petals.

“Oh,” Thor said, apologetic. He handed Steve his drink, which helped the slight burn in his throat. “I am sorry, Steve. I did not mean to cause this.”

“It’s alright, it’s been happening all week.”

Thor frowned slightly, tilting his head. “Only gladiola flowers?”

“Nah, just about everyone.”

Thor chuckled. “It has been my fortune to have been going through the same. Or should I say misfortune? My brother has been complaining of the house being stuffy.”

“Water lilies and lilacs?”

“How did you know?” Thor asked with delight.

“I coughed up some of those petals a few weeks ago, when I gave Jane some drawing lessons.”

“Ah, yes, I recall that. She is still grateful for your assistance and does not understand why she needed to take an art class whilst working on a science major.”

Steve shrugged. “No clue. Degree requirements are so _random_.”

“Indeed,” Thor agreed. “Perhaps it has roots in the different ways the college education systems have developed, at least in comparison to Europe. Though how did you know about lilacs?”

“Darcy was grateful that she didn’t have to hear Jane complain anymore.”

Thor laughed loudly and sat down, a drink already in hand. “I do not see why she complained. It was a challenge for Jane. Not everyone has the same skills.”

“True, but you might be a little biased. While you heard the struggles of a loved one, Darcy was hearing a broken record. But I heard you two got back together?”

It was tense when they first broke up some months ago. Jane and Thor clicked in so many ways, except when it came to work and family expectations. Thor’s father expected him to take the reins of the company, much like Tony, while Jane lived and breathed outer space and not much else. Time did its thing though, and soon enough, they were on friendly terms again.

Or, if Betty was correct, now friendlier terms.

Thor nodded. “Yes, engaged in fact.”

“No way! When did you do that?”

While continuing to catch up, and offering more congratulations, Steve didn’t cough or sneeze any more flower petals. It was such a relief. While it was nice to have some sort of confirmation that his friends cared about him, he wished that the universe didn’t manifest signs of it through flower petals. He could see it in their expressions, hear it in their words, feel it through their actions. Why would he need the universe reminding him when he had all that?

* * *

A few nights later on a Darts-And-Fries night, Steve had another coughing fit that was getting quite familiar.

“Thanks,” he said as Clint handed him his beer. God, this was getting old.

“I don’t know anyone who likes crocus flowers,” Clint commented, holding up one of them.

“It’s Betty,” Carol called as she got the darts from the board so they could begin another round. “She got the letters from everyone. We’ll all probably be drowning in crocuses soon.”

“Well hey, when one doesn’t have internet access, snail mail is the way to go!” Clint remarked. “At least we don’t have to pay customs fees or that like other countries.”

Steve laughed. “Yeah. I’m just glad Pepper has the resources to coordinate it all. I have no idea how business majors do it.”

“Same. Any word on when she and Bruce are coming back?”

“Betty is coming back this weekend, but Bruce is staying out there another month, I think.”

Carol came over, sighing. “I still can’t believe her father is being such a jackass. I mean, how often do you find a literal genius who spends his day taking care of sick people? I know a hundred fathers who would want their daughters—hell, any of their kids—to marry Bruce.”

“No idea,” Clint said. “He’s a jackass.”

“Agreed.”

“We still saving up money to send them on a honeymoon someday?” Steve asked. “Or have we moved that up to when Betty graduates and can move out?”

Carol laughed. “Graduation. I got a spare bedroom waiting for them.”

Steve coughed again, and this time, there were a few sunflower petals. It wasn’t as annoying as it could have been because Clint sneezed some up as well.

“Carol!”

“What?” she asked, grinning. “Can’t I appreciate and adore my friends? At least sunflower petals are edible! Put them on a salad!”

* * *

Tony was wheezing, trying to take in a breath of air, but the situation was apparently too comical for words. All he could do was laugh.

“What?” Steve asked, confused and annoyed all at once.

“You—really? Seriously?”

“Tony, you’re getting close to getting a knuckle sandwich.”

He started laughing all over again, tears gathering in his eyes.

Steve threw up his arms. “For God’s sake!”

Tony managed to compose himself a few moments later. “Your _vocabulary_ , your vernacular. Whatever you wanna call it. It’s so old fashioned.”

Steve scowled, a blush rising. “So what?”

“I never said it was a bad thing,” Tony said, giggling a little still. “I like it.”

He was only mollified—just the barest bit—when he coughed up a single ranunculus petal, signaling that Tony was actually feeling some fondness.

Steve still tossed some water on him when Tony revealed that he recorded the entire conversation where Steve’s accent and slang came out more than usual. A classmate, who was putting on a production of _West Side Story_ asked him about slang and accents! What did he expect?

* * *

“Thanks again, Pepper,” Steve said, looking over the paperwork. “I really appreciate this.”

“It’s what I do,” she replied with a smile. “Or what I am training to do.”

Steve chuckled and hoped a few of the scholarships he had filled out would get accepted. Pepper had spent the last few days helping him go over essays, make sure everything was in order, and even found him a couple of lesser known scholarships for their school. Every penny would help combat against student loan debt that was mounting up for him and Bucky. They still had about a year to go before they got their degrees, but jobs after graduation were not guaranteed.

“It’ll be fine,” she reassured him when he was lost in his worried thoughts for a little too long. “Some of these scholarships you can apply for every semester. So just keep those emails I sent you and we’ll write new essays.”

“Someday, you are going to make lawyers quake in their boots.”

Pepper laughed, delighted and bright. “I’d better!”

That was when Steve noticed Pepper was wearing a new necklace: along the chain were small petals surrounded in clear resin. He immediately recognized the ranunculus and marigold petals belonging to Tony and Rhodey. It was a common thing to have, jewelry or trinkets with flower petals from loved ones. Bucky had a few charms from his sisters. He had a ring that his father had given his mother where their petals (black popular and bluebells) were inlaid in resin.

“Is that new?” he asked, indicating to the necklace.

“Oh, yes. Tony made it. He’s been working on resin projects when he can’t work in the labs at SI. Apparently there is a whole at-home resin jewelry making community.”

“Huh,” he mused, wondering.

* * *

“T’Challa!” everyone cheered.

While T’Challa wasn’t among them in the class that started most of their friendships, he easily found a place among them after becoming friends with Bucky and Tony over a love of machinery and technology.

“My friends!” he cheered back, raising both arms, which had more drinks and snacks. “What are we watching tonight?”

A dozen different answers came up, which caused Betty to find the hat they always relied upon to prevent arguments from going too far. They attempted a rotation schedule, which they lost track of, and voting was not much better either. The night was young, but as they learned over and over again, they could argue among themselves for eternity.

“Steve, thank you once again for introducing Shuri and Peter,” T’Challa said. “I know my sister would have been just fine, but I am glad she already had a support system here.”

“Oh, no problem,” he replied. “Peter could always use more friends his—”

He coughed, which prompted Thor to thump his back.

“Ugh,” he muttered, using a napkin to wipe his mouth.

“Are you alright?” T’Challa asked. “Is it your asthma again?”

Steve looked down at the napkin just to be sure. On it was a strange flower he had never seen before.

“Oh, no. I’ve been getting Hanahaki Disease for like, the last two weeks. Not sure what kind of flower this is.”

“Ah,” he replied, picking up the flower. “I owe you an apology. This is a native to my homeland. The name does not translate well, so calling it the heart-shaped herb is easier.”

Steve smiled. “Don’t worry about it. I’ve coughed up just about everyone’s favorite flowers.”

“You too?” Betty asked, holding out the hat for everyone to write their choice of movie on. “I swear, they need to find a cure for this. How do florists stay in business?”

“Stems and leaves,” Tony replied. “No one coughs up stems and leaves.”

“And I’m sure something covered in spit is all the rage at weddings,” Bucky added.

Natasha punched him in the shoulder. “Don’t be immature. I’ve been dealing with it too.”

As everyone started talking about all the flowers they had been coughing and sneezing up, Steve smiled to himself. He was sure everyone would figure it out, but more or less, everyone had been thinking about everyone. Sure, their lives were really different. Sure, their schedules didn’t always match up. And of course they weren’t perfect by any means.

But in this almost too-crowded room, surrounded by his friends and loved ones, Steve couldn’t find it in him to complain too much about flower petals.

* * *

“W-What?”

Steve sputtered and coughed as everyone around him roared in laughter.

“You guys!”

He was not sure how they pulled it off, but he was almost a foot deep in bleeding heart flowers.

They had long been his favorite, ever since he out grew flowers like daisies and dandelions most kids liked, at least until they learned about other flowers.

They had to have been from a florist’s, because they were fresh.

“You’re always doing it to us!” Bucky laughed.

“Payback!” Sam cried.

Steve brushed them out of his hair and clothes, glaring at them. “Ha, ha. Very funny.”

Bucky ruffled his hair. “Like Sam said, payback for all the times we coughed up flowers because of you.”

“But you never said anything!”

“Maybe because we don’t like complaining,” Sam replied.

“Liar!”

* * *

“Hey, Steve! Catch!”

Steve barely had any time to react before he felt something warm and solid land in his palm.

“Tony! Warn a guy, will ya?”

Tony laughed and walked over, while Steve took a moment to look at just what he caught.

Inside his hand was a small pendant, something that would be strung on a necklace or kept in a pocket as a good luck charm. The resin was perfectly clear and highly polished, allowing a single ranunculus flower to be shown perfectly.

Tony’s flower had always been a little unusual. Instead of the double petal variety florists often used for weddings, his were the older and more traditional flower, most commonly known as a buttercup. Everyone knew what a buttercup looked like; it was a common flower all around the world and considered a weed, especially because it was poisonous to livestock.

Secretly, Steve always liked the flowers because they reflected light unlike anything else, especially the yellow ones. And because they were Tony’s flowers, but no one had to know that.

“What is this?” he asked when he didn’t have to shout at Tony to be heard.

“For you,” Tony replied.

“Details, details,” Steve sighed. “Come on, you usually can’t stop giving details.”

Tony still didn’t reply. Instead, his cheeks started to go red, which was hard with his skin tone.

Steve stared.

Resin jewelry were used for all sorts of reasons: signs of friendship, good luck, milestones reached in life. Sometimes … sometimes they were used for romantic intents too.

“Wanna get dinner?” Tony asked in a rush.

Steve could feel his own face heat up.

His mind was a whirl. On one hand, he didn’t want to ruin the friendship they had. It was a good thing, one of the most important relationships in his entire life.

But … But clearly Tony though the risk was worth it.

Worth it enough to somehow get a perfectly preserved ranunculus flower settled in resin. If it were any bigger, it would be a paperweight.

Turning it slightly, the petals still caught and reflected the light.

He pushed away his thoughts and worries. It was only dinner. They could see how this would go.

“Sure.”

* * *

Steve laughed at himself, four weeks later.

“What’s so funny?” Tony asked, snuggled into his side, the sheets tangled around their feet.

“I thought, initially, ‘it’s only dinner’,” he explained.

“Oh?” Tony asked, propping himself on his elbow. “Did you really think that?”

Steve shrugged. “Looking back at it now, I think our whole friendship was leading to something more. Don’t know why I didn’t see it.”

“Well, you’re not a futurist like me, and with everyone always sneezing or coughing up petals for all the types of love there are out there, why _would_ you automatically think romance?”

“Tony, I know for a fact that you have a trashy romance novel collection.”

Tony laughed and swatted his shoulder. “That’s still me, not you! Besides, you said yes. Now look where we are. I don’t think we would have this if we weren’t friends first. We might have gone months before we properly crossed paths.”

Steve leaned down and kissed him. “Mm. Maybe.”

“Think we should send a thank you card to our old professor?” Tony asked, giving him a mischievous grin. “She’s the reason any of us know each other in the first place.”

“Hell no.”

In the end, any worries Steve had about their relationship rocking the boat in their social circle was for naught. Pretty much everyone muttered, ‘about damn time’.


End file.
